


Leo For Short

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF, Men's Football RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Animals, Attempt at Humor, Cressi, Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, Full Moon, M/M, Magical Realism, Translation into Chinese available, Translation into Russian Available, cressiweek2k19, prompts pink and red mostly, rescuing a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 13:46:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: James reaches a hand down, trying to speak quietly. "Oh, we can't leave it here. It’s so small, it would never survive. It’s probably a runt,” he says pityingly. In that instant, the cat strikes, and James pulls his hand back astonished to see two scratches across his palm. “Well, shit,” he says as the red drips down his wrist."Seems like he's fine," Cristiano says, smiling as James takes a few steps back. “Not all small, skinny things are helpless, you know,” he says pointedly. “Think you would know that firsthand.”Now translated into Russian bycrazy_jellyonficbook.netNow being translated into Chinese byAlanlulaon Lofter (part 1,part 2)





	Leo For Short

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yulin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yulin/gifts).

> I originally wrote this for cressiweek2k17 and it's been in my unfinished files forever. Decided to see if I could finish it and surprisingly I managed it. Hope you enjoy. I now imagine it being for the prompt red lol.

“Full moon tonight,” James says while they’re finishing up their drinks. “Careful driving home, alright?” His tone is ominous and he shifts into the shadows as he waggles his eyebrows. The lights in the restaurant are reflecting off his glass, turning it first green, then blue, then gold. But the effect is anything but spooky, more like a disco than anything else.

Cristiano tries not to laugh. “What, you believe in werewolves now? Who cares if it’s a full moon?” He swallows down the last of his soda and then crunches on an ice cube idly. “I’ll be sure not to welcome in any vampires either, okay? Keep my cross nearby and my stake sharpened.”

James gives him a look. “That’s not what I meant,” he protests, hitting Cristiano on the arm lightly. He looks outside at where it’s just starting to rain. “You can’t even see it anymore, not with the clouds, but it’s there. And when it’s a full moon, things get a little crazy. Odd. Strange. Everybody knows that. I just read this thing about how emergency rooms have so many more patients because of all these weird incidents that happen during the full moon.”

Cristiano’s mouth is cold and he licks his lips. “‘Everybody knows that,’” he mimics before smiling. “Yeah, okay, James. I’ll be careful,” he says, making sure James knows he’s just humoring him. “Careful not to ready anything you’re reading,” he says under his breath.

“Hey!” James says. “I’m just saying,” he says as he looks out at the rain again, “you can laugh all you want. But don’t go about tempting fate, you know?” He stands up as the rest of them start to leave, grabbing his jacket and swinging it around his shoulders. “But hey, what do I know, right? I only *read* real things instead of football mags.”

Cristiano laughs again as they make their way outside and huddle together under the overhang to peer at the rain. “Where you headed after this?” he asks James, watching his friend’s fingers dance over his phone. Whatever reply James gets makes him break out into a smile.

“Neymar’s still in town apparently,” James says gleefully. He looks back down at his phone and reads whatever the next text is. “Plane back to Barcelona was canceled because of the rain, so they’re just going to stay the night and then head back tomorrow instead.” He smiles to himself. “He says he can’t wait to cuddle.”

Cristiano shakes his head. “Lucky you,” he says to James, genuinely happy for him. He busies himself with zipping up his jacket and pulling out his raincoat. “Wish I had someone to cuddle with,” he mutters under his breath while getting his umbrella out of his pocket. A twinge of sadness threatens to flicker through him and he shakes his head to try to rid himself of it. “Let’s get moving, then!” he says louder, gesturing for James to get his own umbrella ready.

The rain seems to be coming down harder than ever, making it hard for him to hear whatever James says next. Still, James gets out his umbrella and the two of them say their goodbyes and step out into the rain. The rain pounding off the umbrella just adds to the noise around him and they start to squish through the puddles on the way to their cars. Cristiano’s mumbling to himself about how his shoes are probably ruined, and not really paying attention to anything except how many more steps he needs to reach where he parked.

And so he almost doesn't hear it.

It's quiet to begin with, barely a squeak, and so faint and strange that Cristiano stops in his tracks merely out of curiosity. And then he stands there to see if he can hear it again. James stops with him, giving him a strange look, clearly not having heard it. “Cris?”

But Cristiano hears it again. It's a quiet, timid meow coming from between the bushes just off the sidewalk. It almost sounds like a 'Hello?'

Cristiano pauses, James right beside him, before the two of them inch a little closer. "Is that a cat?" James asks, instantly charmed and nearly pushing Cristiano out of the way. The two of them squat down to peer into the greenery. There, barely able to be seen in the darkness amidst the wet leaves, is a small bedraggled cat.

The poor thing is completely soaked, black fur dripping with water and nose quivering in the chilly evening air. The little body is shaking, whiskers curling slightly and ears laid back as if it's afraid. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of collar or name tag on it either, otherwise, Cristiano is sure it would be jingling.

James reaches a hand down, trying to speak quietly. "Oh, we can't leave it here. It’s so small, it would never survive. It’s probably a runt,” he says pityingly. In that instant, the cat strikes, and James pulls his hand back astonished to see two scratches across his palm. “Well, shit,” he says as the red drips down his wrist.

"Seems like he's fine," Cristiano says, smiling as James takes a few steps back. “Not all small, skinny things are helpless, you know,” he says pointedly. “Think you would know that firsthand.”

James shakes his hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah, okay,” he says laughing. “Maybe leave it be," he says, changing his mind. “Wow, usually animals like me. Don't really think it wants any help."

Cristiano laughs, eyeing the wet cat. Despite having just scratched James, it seems quite scared again. Cristiano hums. “No, I think you were right before… I can't just leave it here," he says, watching as the cat tries to curl up into a ball and go back to being unnoticed.

James laughs. “Well, good. It likes you better apparently, so you deal with it. Good luck getting it to your car," he says. Then he grins. “I’m gonna take care of this.” He waves his hand at Cristiano, drawing his attention to the bleeding lines scored across his skin, and then heads off to where he parked.

Cristiano watches him go, amused.

Then he turns back to the cat. "Now what to do with you?" he asks himself, inching a little closer. He tilts his umbrella over the cat, blocking most of the rain from continuing to soak the animal. The little thing continues to tremble, and Cristiano hums again. "Wouldn't you like to be all safe and warm?" he asks gently, using that tone of voice usually only reserved for Junior.

The cat's head untucks from where it had been hidden under its arm. Two dark eyes look up curiously at Cristiano while the wet nose wrinkles adorably. Despite the soaked and matted fur, Cristiano thinks the cat is actually quite beautiful.

Cristiano cautiously reaches his hand out, but he's slower than James and takes his time. He doesn't want to startle the poor thing. Gradually he moves his hand closer and closer until it’s hovering right in front of the cat. "Here," he croons, "give me a smell. I promise I won't hurt you." He doesn't move any closer than that, knowing that if the cat doesn't accept him, he's going to have to rethink things.

The cat gives another low meow, perhaps attempting to be threatening, but instead just sounding sad and afraid.

Cristiano whispers again, "I promise, you're okay. It's alright. You don’t want to stay here, do you? Not outside in the rain.” He can feel rainwater starting to drop down his back, but still, he remains where he is. “I can at least dry you off and let you sleep somewhere warm at home.”

Finally, the cat's nose moves, nosing into Cristiano's palm, butting against his fingers. It's like they cross some sort of bridge because then the cat uncurls completely. The animal is still cautious, still timid, but slowly he leans his whole head into Cristiano's hand.

"There we go," Cristiano murmurs, petting the soft, wet fur. He stokes over the head, fingering the ears, scratching under the chin. “You’re not going to scratch me, right?” he asks. “Easy does it.” The rain continues to splatter down around them and Cristiano shivers slightly. “Alright, let’s try this.”

Slowly, he moves his hand down the cat’s back, stroking lightly. And then, when there’s no complaint, he carefully slides his hand under the animal’s body and lifts him up. The cat meows quietly but doesn’t struggle, and Cristiano cradles the poor thing against his chest. “Here we go,” Cristiano says quietly, turning to walk toward his car. He can feel the cat soaking his shirt, but more than that, he can feel how cold it must be. “I have no idea what you’re doing out here by yourself.”

When they reach his car, Cristiano tosses his umbrella in the back and sits in the driver’s seat with the cat. He turns on the heat and then looks over and tries to figure out if he has any towels. The only thing he really has are a few extra Real Madrid training jerseys, so he takes one and starts to attempt drying the cat. At the first touch of the fabric, the cat squawks and starts to struggle, so Cristiano just tries to wrap the animal slightly. “Alright, alright,” he mutters, “we can wait until we’re home for that, I guess.”

The cat settles after that, seemingly less angry and on the brink of going to sleep when Cristiano just holds it on his lap.

*****

When they get home, Cristiano pulls up to the door instead of going back to the garage. He carries the cat carefully inside, deciding to head for the linen closet to find towels. But Junior spots him first.

“What do you have?” Junior exclaims, running towards him with glee. When Cristiano bends down to show Junior the little ball of fur, his son gasps. “A kitty! Can I pet it?!”

Cristiano straightens, a hand trying to cover the cat’s ears to protect them from the noise. “Wait, wait,” he cautions. “Let me dry him off a bit first, and then we’ll see how he’s feeling. Okay? Don’t want to scare him. He scratched James, so we have to be careful.” The cat blinks sleepily at Junior, but other than that doesn’t react.

Junior nods obediently, pulling his hands behind his back in an effort to contain his excitement. “I can be careful,” he promises. But he follows Cristiano to the closet, and hovers, watching the cat with wide eyes. “We're keeping him, right?! Can I name him?”

Cristiano smiles, shaking his head. They continue on to the bathroom, where he ushers Junior in and then closes the door behind them. He settles down on the plush rug in front of the sink, with the cat in his lap and the towels beside him. “Yes, and yes. Of course,” he says softly. “But let’s slow down. You haven’t even really seen him yet, so you can’t name him.”

Junior kneels down beside him, watching as Cristiano unwraps the animal and begins to towel down the wet fur. “I know what his name is,” he says instantly, leaning in closer to peer at the dark eyes.

Cristiano shakes his head again, focusing on trying not to pet the cat’s hair in the wrong direction. He’s never exactly dried a cat before, but he seems to be doing okay. “Already?” The cat shifts, standing up as Cristiano tries to dry its legs. “Think a bit on it, because you can’t change the name or else it’ll get confused.”

Junior’s quiet then, getting lower. He rests his chin on his hands and stares intently at the cat as Cristiano finishes drying it.

When the cat finally has enough of Cristiano’s toweling, it walks away a few feet, tail swishing back and forth. Then it hops up onto the counter gracefully, looking down at them peculiarly.

Junior grins. “Messi,” he says confidently, missing the way Cristiano’s teeth grind together.

“That’s,” Cristiano starts, trying to find a way to tell his son that they are not naming their cat Messi, “interesting…” The cat sneezes twice as if to agree. Cristiano watches as it walks along the edge of the counter restlessly. “Well, the thing about names, Junior, is that you have to follow the 3:00 rule.”

Junior doesn’t look away from the cat. “What’s that?”

“It’s that you have to be able to yell the name out into the middle of the night,” Cristiano says. “So, you see why Messi might not be a good choice.”

“Why?” Junior says, turning his head finally. “What’s wrong with yelling Messi?”

Cristiano sighs. “Junior, I can’t be yelling out ‘Messi,’” he explains. “You know this. You understand why, right?”

Junior rolls his eyes. “But that’s his name,” he insists. “Look at him.” They both look back at the cat who has now decided to curl up in the sink and watch them suspiciously. “Look at his hair!”

Cristiano grudgingly agrees that the black messy hair is damning. “Yes, but…”

“And he has dark eyes, too,” Junior says, standing up to look down at the cat. He keeps his promise and doesn’t pet the animal, but he gets awfully close. His fingers cling to the edge of the counter, itching to touch. “Hi, kitty! Is your name Messi?” he whispers to the cat.

Cristiano sighs. “Junior, he can’t answer—,” he starts to say, abruptly biting his tongue as the cat stands up and begins to purr.

“I know!” Junior says, absolutely delighted. “We can call him Leo for short!”

Cristiano stares up at the ceiling. “I did this to myself,” he mutters. He can already envision the little thing slipping out the back door and blending in with the darkness. He’s definitely going to end up wandering around the neighborhood in his nightclothes, shouting, “Leo?! Where are you, Leo?!”

Meanwhile, Junior is whispering all sorts of things to the cat. “And then you can sleep next to me, because Daddy snores, and I have lots of room in my bed.” The cat continues to purr, eventually sticking his neck out until he’s butting Junior’s head with his own. “Daddy! Look!” Junior says quietly, practically trembling with happiness. “He likes me! Leo likes me.”

Cristiano sighs again and stands up, watching warily in case the cat’s claws start to come out. “Of course he does. The cat—,” he takes a deep breath, “Leo is…” He shakes his head. “It’s going to take some getting used to.” He reaches his hand out to pet the animal, which the cat, now alert, allows. Though Cristiano can tell that the animal liked Junior’s touch more. “He should probably eat something. Do you want to help me?”

Junior nods, still twitchy. “Can I pet him now? Daddy, please?”

“Carefully,” Cristiano says, catching the cat under the chin. “Be gentle with… with Leo.”

Junior reaches out gingerly, barely brushing the top of the cat’s head. “I did it!” he says, still whispering. “He feels soft!” His hand hovers as if he’s gathering his courage, and then he slowly moves it along the cat’s back. “Leo, you’re so soft! I love you so much!” He turns his head. “Daddy, don’t you love Leo, too?”

Cristiano smiles. “He seems great, Junior,” he says, happy that his son is happy. “I’m sure you and Leo are going to have a lot of fun together.”

“With you, too,” Junior insists. “Leo and you are going to have fun, too.”

Cristiano sighs. “Yes, Junior, Leo and I are going to have fun, too,” he says, watching as Junior walks toward the kitchen. “Maybe,” he adds then, under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief that he’s allowed this to happen. “Leo,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “Wow. I’d better win Dad of the Year for this.”

Now that the cat is dry and warm, he seems to be a little more curious about his surroundings. When Junior puts him down on the counter, Leo immediately struts along the edge, dodging a few mugs that are sitting there and ready to go into the dishwasher. Cristiano’s about to say that maybe it isn’t a good idea for Leo to be on the counter, but Leo nimbly picks his way through the crowded space without any issues. The cat pokes his head into each mug, too, like he’s interested in what could have been inside them.

Cristiano shrugs. “Okay, he's graceful like the real Le--," he cuts himself off and coughs before he can say something damning. "I mean, so cats are graceful. Good to know,” he finishes. “We have milk,” he says to Junior. “Right?”

Junior nods from where he’s still watching Leo, enthralled, not having caught most of what Cristiano's said.

Cristiano goes over to the fridge to take out the milk, whirling around with the carton in his hand when he hears a large crash. He turns to find that Leo is sitting on the counter and looking down at a broken mug. “Okay, maybe cats can be clumsy, after all.”

“Daddy!” Junior says, wincing, “Leo accidentally knocked into one of the mugs.” He’s in bare feet so he doesn’t go any closer to the mess. “I’ll go get a broom!” he says instead, zooming off into the direction of the hall closet and leaving Cristiano and Leo there alone.

Cristiano looks at the mess and then looks at Leo.

Leo looks at the mess and then looks at Cristiano. And then he bats a second mug off the counter and lets it smash onto the floor beside the first.

Cristiano calls after Junior, “Are you sure it was an accident?” Then he points a finger at Leo. “Don’t you dare do that again,” he says, trying to figure out if there’s a way for him to get over to Leo before the cat knocks anything else off onto the floor. He eyes the mess, wincing when he sees that it’s Junior’s favorite Bernabéu mug. “Well,” he says to himself, “at least that one’s easily replaceable.”

The first probably is too. And in fact, as he looks at the pieces on the floor, he thinks it's just one of the plain white ones that say Real Madrid. "Maybe we should call you Messi after all..."

Leo's tail twitches, and his paw taps another mug. This one is an old Manchester United mug that Cristiano's had for ages. “Aw, shit, Leo, please, not that one,” Cristiano says, because that one actually has some sentimental value. “Come on, any one but that one,” he says urgently, realizing that he’s bargaining with a cat.

Leo taps it with his paw again, but he doesn't knock it over onto the floor. He just taps it lightly and then walks away.

Cristiano lets out a sigh of relief but then curses when he realizes Leo is heading for the green Sporting mug he likes his coffee in. "Leo, no!"

But Leo's a cat. And Leo doesn't care.

Cristiano doesn’t even flinch as the mug smashes onto the floor.

“Okay, listen,” he says to Leo, pointing a finger at him again. “I did say, ‘anyone but that one,’ but really, if you keep breaking mugs, we aren’t going to have any left. So if you could just calm down for a minute…” He keeps one eye on the cat and reaches for a saucer to pour some of the milk into it. “Here,” he cajoles, setting it on the floor away from the mess like a peace offering. “Have some milk, eh?”

Leo swishes his tail back and forth, ears perking up and turning slightly. But apparently the milk isn’t enough to tempt him, because he walks in the opposite direction, hopping off of the counter and heading toward the couch. Junior’s reappeared in the meantime, broom quickly forgotten when he sees Leo jumping onto a cushion.

“Leo!” Junior says, following him immediately. “Sit with me!” He slows down before Cristiano even opens his mouth to yell, cautiously approaching the cat and sitting next to him.

The couch is huge, but the two of them squish into the corner.

Leo looks nonplussed at Junior, purring lightly when Junior starts to pet him again.

“Daddy, do you think this Leo likes football?” Junior asks curiously, reaching for his iPad. He starts scrolling through some videos on YouTube, not even waiting for Cristiano’s response. “Maybe he’ll like watching the other Leo? Do you think?” He picks a Messi compilation video out and holds the iPad up to the cat expectantly. “Look, Leo, it's Leo!”

Cristiano reaches for the broom and grumbles. He doesn’t feel the need to see his son watch a Messi video for the umpteenth time. Junior laughs though, and Cristiano looks up to see why.

Leo’s apparently interested in the video, paw patting the screen as the announcers start gushing about Messi’s amazing passes.

Cristiano just shakes his head.

*****

Junior falls asleep not long after that. Not surprising, given the late hour. And the boring Messi videos he's chosen to watch.

It's nearly midnight, Cristiano notes absently as he carries his son to his bedroom. He has to say that he was so engrossed in his book that he didn't even notice when Junior drifted off over the iPad, and probably wouldn't have for a little while except... He glares down at the way Leo is now trotting behind him.

The dumb cat had smacked the back of his head before dancing back to sit on the top of the sofa behind Junior and purr obnoxiously. It was clearly delighted by its successful attack. Cristiano had stared at him, rubbing his fingers through his hair and making sure the cat hadn't scratched him. Fortunately, it appeared that the smack had been without claws. Pretty lucky, Cristiano thought, remembering James' hand earlier that evening.

And now, Leo is following them to Junior's bedroom.

"You're a menace," Cristiano mutters to the ball of black fluff as it darts in front of his feet and nearly trips him up. "I bet Junior would be just as happy with a dog. Or a hamster. Or hell, a tank full of tropical fish. So keep this up and we'll be a cat-less household once more. Just try me."

Cristiano realizes he's talking to a cat.

And he swears the cat looks unimpressed.

Cristiano rolls his eyes and pulls back the blankets on the bed so he can deposit Junior. It's little work to pull the sheets back over his son, and then he kisses him on the forehead fondly. "Goodnight," he whispers, smoothing back Junior's curls and silently wishing him good dreams. "Sleep tight."

A soft noise attracts his attention.

Cristiano turns his head to see Leo disappear into Junior's closet. For a moment, Cristiano thinks about leaving him, but then there's a slight crinkling noise of plastic and the rattling of hangers. "Hey," Cristiano hisses, gently rising from the bed and tiptoeing across. "Stop that," he whispers, jerking the doors open completely to catch Leo in the act of batting at Junior's jersey collection. "You'll wake him up!"

After a moment of indecision, Cristiano slowly reaches for the little devil. The black paws are perched precariously on the hanger with Junior's Barcelona jersey and Cristiano can only hope that the nails have dug in torn it up enough that they'll have to get rid of it.

Except, as Cristiano grabs the cat, there's no resistance at all and the jersey remains pristine.

"Would have thanked you for ripping that one, you know," Cristiano mutters as they leave the closet and quietly exit the bedroom. There's no response from Leo, and Cristiano really needs to stop expecting one. Walking out through the hallway, he passes the kitchen and stares at the broom he never put away. "Better keep you with me, tonight," he says, envisioning every glass and mug in pieces if he leaves Leo out on his own.

Entering his bedroom, Cristiano dumps Leo onto the white duvet. It's newly fluffed and must feel like marshmallow, so it's not like the cat landed somewhere uncomfortable. Still, the animal squeaks, but after a few seconds, sprawls out and becomes a puddle of black fur. Cristiano raises his eyebrow. "You're going to leave hair everywhere, aren't you?" he asks, imagining the way the duvet will look like in the morning.

Leo's tail lashes irritably.

Cristiano locks the door to keep Leo inside and then goes through his bedtime routine quickly, feeling a slight chill in the air. The rain is pattering against the windows, but only a little bit now with the worst of the storm having passed through. Cristiano stares up at the clouds as he brushes his teeth, catching a sliver of moonlight peeking through finally. He can't tell whether it looks full or not and shrugs, spitting into the sink and rinsing his mouth.

By the time he returns to the bed, the cat appears to have curled up into a ball and fallen asleep.

Cristiano rubs his eyes tiredly, the events of the day catching up to him. He has no idea the time as he falls into bed and pulls the duvet up around his chest. There's a spot of warmth against his calf, where he guesses that the cat is, and he decides he finds it soothing and doesn't turn away. But then the cat starts to roll around as if it's trying to get comfortable.

It tosses and turns and Cristiano finally scoops it up and places it on his lap. There's a threatening rumble, but it turns into a purr as Cristiano smooths his hand down over its fur. Gradually the creature relaxes, the purring vibrating through its body and through Cristiano's.

Cristiano smiles. "Goodnight then," he murmurs to the animal, as he closes his eyes. His last thought, as he starts to drift off, is that despite what he'd said to James earlier, he ended up with someone to cuddle with after all.

And you know, he was quite happy.

*****  
Or, he was.

Waking up with someone poking you in the nose is never pleasant.

Cristiano sighs and keeps his eyes squeezed shut, sensing it's still dark and refusing to surface from his contentment. "Shh, Leo," he mumbles thickly, "it's not time to get up yet. Be good. Go back to sleep." The heavy weight on his belly shifts and Cristiano blindly reaches out a hand to try to pet him.

And meets... Not fur? Warm, smooth skin.

Cristiano opens his eyes. Because he's definitely not dreaming this. Leo is peering down at him.

But not Leo the cat.

Leo the... Leo the Messi?

"What the fuck?" Cristiano asks, sitting up so quickly that he nearly bangs his face into Messi's. Messi's reflexes are sharp, however, and that saves them a nasty collision. "What the fuck?" he repeats again, as Messi shifts backward slightly onto his thighs. "How the hell did you get in here?" And then. "What the hell did you do with my cat?"

Messi stares at him. Even in the dimly lit room, Cristiano can see that a pink flush has appeared on his cheeks. Messi opens his mouth to say something and then he looks down.

Cristiano follows his gaze.

"And wow, why are you naked?" Cristiano asks while trying to keep calm and trying not to match Messi's blush. He very carefully withdraws his hand from where it's on Messi's hip. This does nothing to change the fact that Messi is, in fact, very naked and sitting on Cristiano's thighs. Thankfully there's a duvet between their bodies, and of course, Cristiano is wearing sweatpants... "And, sitting on me?"

Messi slides to the empty side of the bed, pulling the duvet until it covers his lower half. The flush has traveled down his neck and settled across his chest. His fingers have tightened their grip on the duvet and it is now clutched protectively against his body. When he speaks, his voice is low and confused. "I'm... I was..."

Cristiano has never been so freaked out in his entire life. Because while it is theoretically very intriguing to wake up with a naked Lionel Messi in his bed, he is very, very sure that things aren't right. He forces himself to look away from Messi's trim waist and up at Messi's face instead.

"Look, Leo, um, Messi," Cristiano says, the anger starting to build, as he realizes that this is wrong in so many different ways and this is most definitely not a dream, "seriously, you'd better start answering me right this minute or else--"

"Or else, what?" Messi interrupts, the pink flush starting to turn darker as his own anger threatens to erupt. "You think I broke in here or something? You're the one that brought me here! What are you going to tell people?? That you brought me here, and then got mad when I stayed?"

Cristiano cannot understand a single thing he's saying. "Are you insane right now?" He squints at Messi, looking to see if his eyes are dilated, or if he's got any bruising. He doesn't see any and tries to remember if he'd seen Messi getting kicked in the head during the game. "Do you need medical attention? Do you know who you are? Who I am?" Messi's hair is spiked up messily and Cristiano points at him in accusation. "And where is my cat?!"

Messi's eyes narrow. "Cristiano, are you a fucking idiot? Think this through for one goddamn second! I'm your cat!"

Cristiano shakes his head, laughing. Who would have thought Messi was so funny? "What the hell are you talking about?" He starts looking around the room, trying to think of places that the creature could be hiding. Maybe behind the bookshelf, or under the bed? "Where did you put him?" Then it dawns on him. "You didn't let him out into the house, did you? He has a tendency to break things--"

Messi grabs his hand. "Cristiano. I don't know what happened, alright? I swear to you that I don't know," he says in a rush. "But it was raining and I was outside and something happened and all of a sudden I was lost and wet and--." He shakes his head. "Something was wrong with me, and I didn't realize until I saw you and James. And I'm sorry, but he insulted me, so I scratched him, and I'll apologize to him--"

"How could you know that?" Cristiano asks dumbly, staring down at Messi's hand. It's warm, but--, "Did James tell you what happened? Oh, he was going to see Neymar... And so he told you? Why would he tell you?"

Messi takes a deep breath. "Nobody told me, Cristiano." He slides his hand up Cristiano's arm as if he's trying to be gentle. But he soldiers on with his story. "I'm sorry I got angry. I didn't mean that. What I meant was, you took me home. Saved me from the street and then you dried me off, showed me to Junior."

Cristiano shakes his head. "No," he says, knowing this is all ridiculous. He doesn't know how Messi knows what happened, but he knows this can't be the truth. And he misses Leo, misses that irritating little ball of black fluff that cuddled up to him in the darkness. "That's not--"

"I knocked the mugs off on purpose," Messi continues, startling Cristiano. "Because, well, because they were Real Madrid and I was being bitchy. Oh, and then I watched highlights with Junior," he adds. "On his iPad. And when he fell asleep, I hit you to make you take him to bed." His version of events somehow matches what happened, somehow gets everything right.

"But how the hell did you get turned into a cat in the first place?" Cristiano finally blurts out, still trying to understand even though he knows there is no possible logical explanation for all of this. "And how come you're not a cat anymore? What happened?!"

Messi lets go of him, pulling the duvet against his stomach and curling into himself protectively. "I don't know," he says, looking tired. His voice shakes. "I really don't know... It's so weird. One minute I was looking up at the moon, and the next I was in those bushes and getting soaked."

Cristiano's racing thoughts pause. "The moon," he says considering that suddenly, turning from Messi out toward the window. Something is starting to click. He doesn't hear the rain any longer, but the curtains are blocking his view. Glancing back toward Messi, Cristiano shoves his legs over the side of the bed and strides over toward the window. Throwing the curtains open, he's nearly blinded by the brilliance of the moon now--so different than the faint glimmer he'd been shown earlier.

"A full moon," Messi mumbles from the bed.

A full moon, indeed.

Cristiano stares at it until he sees spots and then closes the curtains again, letting the room fall back into darkness. "Did you wish something tonight?" he asks, staring at the curtains, keeping his back to Messi. "While you were looking up at the moon?" Because he remembers being in the rain, hearing that James was going to be with Neymar. And he remembers the flicker of sadness he felt at that moment.

Messi doesn't answer right away, but then the duvet rustles uncertainly. "I... maybe." He doesn't offer any more other than that, but Cristiano doesn't need anymore. Because it all makes sense now. Or rather, as much sense as it possibly can considering the strange circumstances.

After all, he'd wished something embarrassing too.

"Well," Cristiano says, "that happened, then." He returns to the bed and sits down heavily. That'll teach him to make fun of James' nonsense. For now, though, there's no other choice but to go back to sleep. No sense in doing anything else. Not with it being still dark outside. "Going to be hard to explain this to Junior in the morning."

"Which?" Messi asks with a bit of a laugh. "Me being here, or me--the cat--not being here?"

Cristiano sighs, having not even considered the latter. "Both, I guess," he says with resignation. "I mean, obviously me and him will be going to the shelter to pick out a new cat. Can't do anything about that. He'll be heartbroken otherwise." If pressed to admit it, Cristiano might agree that he also would like a cat, but that's neither here nor there. He makes a face and scoots back down until he's flat on his back. "Have no fucking idea what I'm going to say about you."

The mattress tilts as Messi mimics Cristiano's actions and gets himself situated on the other side of the bed. He props his head up with his hand, leaning on his elbow and peering at Cristiano. "Going to have to make something up," Messi says unhelpfully.

Cristiano opens his mouth to tell him exactly how unhelpful that statement was, but--

"Especially if I'm still naked," Messi adds quietly.

Cristiano turns his head, unintentionally skimming his gaze down Messi's bare chest until he gets to where the duvet is resting. It's bunched up so innocently, giving nothing away about what's hiding underneath. "I'd forgotten," he says honestly, thankfully his eyes having nearly readjusted to the darkness so he can enjoy what he's seeing. "But are you mentioning it because you want something to wear right now, or because you're thinking about explaining it in the morning?"

Messi bites his lip and then smiles. "You know," he says softly, "I didn't think you were interested."

Cristiano blinks. "In what? Clothes? In being a good host?" He tilts his head. "I should have something you can wear. Maybe it'll be big, but you know, it'll do in a pinch." He's kicking himself for not offering that earlier. Messi must be so uncomfortable.

Messi laughs. "No," he says plainly. "In me." He arches his eyebrow at Cristiano's confusion. "Or do you think I'm blind and can't see the way you're looking at me?" And when Cristiano starts to splutter and try to think of how to respond to that, Messi goes on. "I was already into you, but if you think that I'm not even more attracted to you, after seeing the way you saved a helpless kitten and took him home to your son? Well, I think you need to wake the hell up."

"So, no to clothes, then?" Cristiano manages to get out, his face burning, knowing he's beet red, as Messi slides over to his side of the bed and presses up against him.

"No to clothes," Messi whispers, cuddling up against him. "But yes to anything else." It's such a terrible line, that Cristiano can't help but laugh.

Laugh and laugh and laugh until Messi kisses him to make him stop. Neither of them gets much more sleep that night, but that's alright because they're rather busy doing other things as the full moon wanes. And as the sun peeks its head over the horizon, and they finally slow down their activities, Cristiano decides that this Leo is, in all reality... much better to cuddle with. For this night, and all the nights afterward.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a real bad time lately, which you may have been able to tell due to the lack of posting or updates. I'm really trying to get back into the swing of things but I hope everybody will be patient with me. Thanks xo


End file.
